The Seraph's man opened the bedroom door and came back to report that the patient was still sleeping.
"I've brought him some flowers," she said. "I suppose it's no good waiting? You can't say how soon he's likely to wake up?"
Something in her tone suggested that she would like to wait, and the man showed her into the library, provided her with papers, and withdrew to answer a second ring at the front door bell.
Sylvia was still wandering round the room, glancing at the pictures and reading the titles of the books, when her attention was attracted by the sound of men's voices raised in altercation. Some one appeared to be forcing an entry which the butler was loyally trying to oppose.
"Here's the warrant," said a voice, "properly signed, all in order. If you interfere with these officers in the discharge of their duty, you do so at your own risk."
Sylvia listened with astonishment that changed quickly to alarm. The voice was that of Nigel Rawnsley, speaking as one having authority.
"One of you stay here," he went on, "and see that nobody leaves the flat. The other come with me. Take the library first."
The door opened, and for an amazed moment Nigel stood staring at the library's sole occupant.
"Sylvia!" he exclaimed. "What on earth brings you here?"
His tone so resembled her mother's that all Sylvia's latent opposition and obstinacy were called into play.